Dear Mr Hunter
by MissF.A.T
Summary: Crue is a lone survivor trying to make her way to a military base. On her journey she meets a very oddly-behaved Hunter, who eventually becomes her friend.
1. Chapter 1

Crue pressed herself against the brick wall of a building, her heart pounding and breathing quick. It had been so stupid to go at this alone, but she couldn't have stuck around her apartment much longer than she already had. Now she had to cross through the zombie-infested city and try to make it to some sort of safe haven. She had heard a military station had been set up Lexington, but that was so far away. She had managed to make it through yesterday with no big screw-ups, but now things were really sucking.

She heard an angry snarl and jumped. She looked around and shot the common that had stumbled into the alleyway. She could hear the small horde approaching and wondered just how she was going to kill them all. Suddenly, a low, eerie growl echoed down the alley and her blood ran cold. She looked around frantically, up at the rooftops in particular, but could see nothing.

"Fuck, Crue, you just shoulda stayed at home," she muttered to herself. Finally, the zombies began to pour into the entrance to the alley. Hands trembling slightly, she began firing into the crowd, feeling a little relief as the bodies began to drop.

A terrifying scream ripped through the air, causing Crue to snap her head upward. She saw a hooded zombie jump to the ground and crouch down. She brought her gun up to aim, but several commons grabbed her at once, and she screamed. She elbowed one in the head, knocking him away, but there were too many of them. One ripped her gun away from her. She struggled the best she could, but she felt hopeless. What a fine way to die.

Suddenly, she was knocked into the wall as the commons holding her were bowled into by the Hunter. She was frozen with confusion and fear, watching as the Hunter clawed and slashed at the commons. Those that had nabbed her fell to the ground, dead, while the others began to run off. They wanted fresh meat, but they knew fighting against a Special Infected would be useless. The Hunter chased them to the end of the alley, snarling, taking down a couple more.

Crue finally found it in herself to move and dove for her gun. She turned to look at the Hunter to find him crouched at the entrance to the alley, watching her. She aimed at him, but he continued to simply look at her. He made a noise resembling a whine and she found herself hesitating. He whined again and sunk closer to the ground. She lowered her weapon slightly, looking at the creature in confusion. He began to move toward her and she aimed at him again. He leaped upward before she could fire, pulling himself onto the roof and disappearing.

Crue paused for a moment, before forcing herself to move on. She crept to the end of the alleyway, shooting the two or three commons that were within eyesight. It was slow going with only one person. She took the time to shoot as many zombies as they could before she was noticed. Her shoulders, arms, and neck throbbed dully from the scratches and bites the commons had given her.

The sun was setting before she had finally come to a safe room. She dove inside and locked the door behind her, giving a sigh of relief. She grabbed one of the few medkits that remained and pulled off her shirt. She began to doctor her wounds, wincing at the sting of the alcohol as she sanitized them.

She stopped as she heard a strange scratching at the door. She put down the gauze and medical tape, then picked up her gun. She approached the door slowly, then peered through the bars on the door. In the fading light, she could see a Hunter crouched outside the door. She knew that he could not get in, but she did her best to aim through the bars anyway; it would be one less Hunter to attack her later. The Hunter whined and she hesitated again. She squinted her eyes and realized that it was the same Hunter from before.

"What do you want from me?" she snapped, then chastised herself for speaking to the thing as though it could talk back. The Hunter gave another quiet whine and scratched on the door with his claws. "Go away. Shoo!" The Hunter growled softly, then scratched more persistently on the door. "I'm not going to open the door, so git... Oh, listen to me, talking like you're going to understand me."

She moved away from the door, unable to bring herself to shoot the creature. Instead she finished doctoring herself up. She then pulled her shirt back on over her head and moved over to a table in the corner. She pulled her messenger bag off of her shoulder and set it on the table.

A few candles sat on the table, all of them in various states of use. She rummaged around through the stuff on the table and found a box of matches. She lit the tallest of the candles with it, then turned to the ammunition that lay on the table. She reloaded her weapon before shoving several boxes of the ammo into her bag.

In the corner was a small pile of blankets. She picked up the candle and her bag and walked over to it. The covers were dirty, thin, and smelled kind of bad, but it would be better than sleeping on the floor. She set the candle back on the table, then began to worth with the blankets. She set one aside and then folded the other four in the hopes of making them more comfortable. She then laid the last one over these and put her messenger bag at the top of them.

She retrieved the candle and set it on the floor, making sure it was far enough away so that she would not knock it over in her sleep. She placed her gun within arm's reach and then climbed under the cover. She wrinkled her nose at the smell but laid down anyway. She used the messenger bag as a pillow, closing her eyes.

Crue awoke to find bright morning sunlight filtering through the barred window on the door. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, looking around. The candle had gone out sometime in the night, but there didn't appear to be anything amiss in the room. She sat up, stretched, then groaned. The places where the commons had attacked her were sore. Her stomach was growling angrily, so she opened her bag. There were only four granola bars inside, which she now realized was incredibly stupid. She closed the bag and looked around. She noticed that there were some plastic bottles of water under the table, so she eagerly grabbed one, drinking all of it within minutes. She grabbed as many as she could force into her bag, then grabbed more supplies from the medkit and changed her bandages.

Finally, she was ready to go. She grabbed her gun and put her messenger bag on. She moved over to the door and peered through, looking for any commons that might have been lurking. She jumped when she heard a loud snore. She looked down to find the Hunter from the night before sleeping on the ground. He was curled up on his side with his back against the door.

"Shit," she muttered. The Hunter twitched in his sleep. She took a step back, thinking. How was she going to get out with the damn thing in the way? She didn't want to shoot him; after all, he had helped her before. But she didn't exactly trust him, either. If he was so crazy that he would attack other infected, who was to say he wouldn't turn on her?

She gave a small cry of surprise as she emerged from her thoughts to find the Hunter looking into the safe room. She raised her weapon, ready to aim. The Hunter looked at her and whined, then shook his head. Her jaw dropped open. The creature reached up with one hand and placed it on one of the bars, giving another whine. She stared at him in shock. Her throat suddenly felt dry, despite the water she had recently consumed. The two stared at each other, unmoving, for several minutes.

Finally, she moved toward the door. She reached out and placed her hand on the lock, staring right into the face of the Hunter. His hair was black and shaggy, his eyes a milky blue. Silently, she wondered what she was doing as she unlocked the door. She hesitated again, knowing that he Hunter would be unable to open the door, unlocked or otherwise. His hand dropped away and he whined again. After a prolonged silence, she reached for the handle.

The Hunter stepped back and watched eagerly as she swung the door open. Crue's heart pounded loudly, and she wondered if she had just opened the door to her death. The Hunter stepped into the room, looking around curiously. He was incredibly tall, and wore a black hoodie and dark brown pants. Crue backed away until she hit the table, then just stood there. The Hunter dropped into a crouch and began to move toward her. She lifted her weapon again, prompting him to whine once more. He hesitated, before slowly approaching her.

She began to tremble as he neared her, unsure of whether or not she wanted to shoot. He paused, inches away, then leaned forward. He nuzzled his head against her leg, causing her to jump. He made a weird, rasping, purr-like noise.

"What the fuck?" she said. The Hunter backed up a little and looked at her curiously. "What the hell _are _you?" He tilted his head slightly and continued to look at her. "I don't know what you want from me." He leaned forward again and sniffed at her hand, which unconsciously twitched. He then nuzzled her leg again, as though trying to reassure her. After a long moment, she reached out and patted him on the head. He made the noise resembling a purr again and backed off a little.

"Look, dude, I don't know what you want. But I can't stick around here, I need to move," she said. She sidled past him and headed for the door. She hesitated at the doorway, looking for any commons, but saw none. She went on her way, ducking behind a car upon seeing several commons loitering in the street. She suppressed a shriek of surprise when she noticed the Hunter crouched beside her. "What the hell, have you been following me this entire time?"

The Hunter pulled his lips back in something of a smile. She shook her head and turned away from him, raising her gun. She dispatched the commons with ease, then continued on her way. She glanced behind her as she walked. The Hunter trailed along close behind her, crawling as Hunters did, instead of walking. She stopped and turned toward him. He stopped and looked up at her curiously. She started to say something, but then realized it would do her no good.

She continued on her way, the Hunter following behind her quietly. Suddenly, she heard a growl from behind her. She looked over her shoulder to find that the Hunter had stopped, and was looking up at the rooftops. She heard the distinctive coughing of a Smoker and her heart leaped up in her throat. She looked around but didn't see the creature.

The Hunter leaped into the air, landing on one of the rooftops. He disappeared from sight for a moment. Then two figures came tumbling off of the rooftop. One was a Smoker, the other the Hunter. The Hunter hit the ground with a small yelp, but rolled into a crouching position. The Smoker hit the ground harder, letting off a large cloud of smoke.

Crue took a couple of steps back, coughing. She raised her gun, but saw nothing within the cloud. Suddenly, she heard an angry snarl. As the smoke cleared, she saw that the Smoker had grabbed the Hunter with his tongue. The Hunter angrily slashed at the tongue, breaking it. The Smoker began to back away, but she took her chance. With a couple of shots, the creature fell to the ground, causing another cloud of smoke.

The Hunter scrambled away from the dead body and over to Crue. He looked up at her and purred, as though thanking her. She reached down and patted him on the head awkwardly. He nudged her leg and she smiled slightly.

Crue hurried on her way. This time it was dark out when she reached the haven of a safe room. She opened the door and then hesitated, looking down at the Hunter. He looked at her curiously, before pushing past her and crawling into the safe room. She stood there for a little bit longer, wondering how wise it would be to lock herself in the room with this creature. Finally, she closed the door behind her. He had already had plenty of chances to kill her if he had wanted to. Why would he do it now?

She locked the door and then moved to the wall farthest away from the Hunter. She sat down and opened her bag. She scarfed down one of the granola bars and chugged the water from one of the bottles, watching the Hunter from the corner of her eye. He sat quietly, watching her back. He then crawled over to her, looking at her with interest. Suddenly, she had an idea.

"Hey, buddy, you got a name?" she asked quietly. He tilted his head. "Here, let me see something. I promise I'm not gonna hurt you." She leaned forward, hand shaking, and reached toward him. He flinched away from her at first. She leaned forward more, reaching into his pants pocket. She felt the leather of a wallet and pulled it out. She opened it, searching through the little pockets. She finally found the ID and pulled it out. It was really worn, but she could make out the name and birthdate. "Spencer Vougelle."

The Hunter perked up at the sound of his name. He made another purring noise and nudged her leg with his head. She smiled at him. She looked at the ID again. Doing the math in her head, she realized he was 20, five years younger than she was.

"You were so young. I'm sorry, Spencer," she said quietly. The Hunter nudged her leg again, recognizing only his name. She sighed and scooted over to the corner. There were no blankets in this safe room. She laid her bag down, using it once more as a pillow. The Hunter moved closer to her, curling up about a foot away from her head. She sighed and pressed her back against the wall, still unsure of the thing. Finally, she closed her eyes and was asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Crue opened her eyes, then scrambled into a sitting position, grabbing her gun. Her heart pounded in her ears. This woke the Hunter as well. As he backed away, the previous day came flooding back to her. She groaned and put the gun down. Only, he wasn't just a Hunter anymore, was he? He was a person, he was Spencer Vougelle. He was an unfortunate victim of the Green Flu, and for some reason he had chosen her to attach himself to.

Spencer looked at her curiously. He hadn't exactly enjoyed the rather sudden wake-up call, but, he was over it. He sat there, crouched to the floor, watching her with interest as she climbed to her feet.

Crue went over to the table set up in the corner, checking to see just what the safe room had to offer. It wasn't much. She reloaded her weapon from the stock of ammo she'd taken from the previous safe room, leaving what little this one had to offer for the next person. She also left the three medkits for any other survivors that might be along. Instead, she salvaged what was left of the last one she had used.

She stared at Spencer for a moment, who had grown restless and was sniffing around the room. She was suddenly self-conscious. But she forcefully shoved it aside. There would be no way he was able to realize that she was a girl taking off her shirt. Still, she turned to face the wall as she pulled off her top, doctoring her wounds as quickly as she could.

She pulled her shirt back over her head and turned around to find Spencer sitting with his back against the door. She laughed quietly at herself, then collected her messenger bag, pulling it onto her shoulder. She approached the door and he moved out of the way.

Crue unlocked the door and opened it. Spencer pushed past her and darted out into the street. She stepped out carefully after him, watching him in confusion. He paused, crouching quite low to the ground, then leaped up into the air. She took a few steps out and looked around for him. She saw him on the edge of a building before he disappeared.

Crue stared after him, confused. She hadn't really expected him to leave. Although, once she considered it, she supposed it wasn't really that surprising. She hesitated where she stood, wondering if she should wait and see if he would come back.

Then she shook her head. There was little point in waiting. He could come and go as he pleased – it wasn't like he was her pet or anything. She looked around again, slightly suspicious that there weren't really any commons around.

She started down the street slowly. Soon she came to a large obstacle in the middle of the road. A bus had been parked sideways, as a makeshift blockade. On either end was a truck, blocking the gaps between the bus and the houses. She climbed onto the hood of one of the trucks, nearly falling off of it as she was startled by a common. She quickly killed it and moved on.

She continued on through the city. As she walked, she began to hear faint echoes of a strange sound. She wasn't completely sure what it was, but she was uneasy all the same. She strained her ears, searching in her mind as the sound grew slowly but steadily clearer.

Suddenly, she realized what it was, and stopped dead in her tracks. It was the echo of sobs and wails. It was the sound of the Witch. Her heart began to pound a little harder and faster. She stopped in the middle of the street, unsure of what to do. The sounds reverberated and seemed to come from anywhere and everywhere. There was no real way to tell where the Witch was.

She screamed as a Hunter landed near her, nearly dropping her gun. She spun to face him, only to find it that it was Spencer.

"_Jesus fucking christ!_" she hissed, her heart now pounding in her ears. Spencer looked at her curiously, then turned his head to look to his right. She heard the snarls of approaching commons and backed toward the wall of a nearby building. There were only four, however, and she disposed of them before they had come within ten feet of her. "I could _shoot _you for that!"

Spencer merely tilted his head slightly as he looked at her. Crue stood there for a few moments longer, trying to calm herself down. Finally, she continued down the street, Spencer following close behind her.

She moved terribly slowly, still very aware of the crying and lack of commons in the area. Periodically she glanced behind her, checking to see if the Hunter was still following her. And he was, moving silently at a crouch, seeming to be constantly taking in the surroundings himself.

Finally, she found the Witch. Luckily for her, it was a wandering one.

Crue dove behind a car on the opposite side of the street, Spencer right on her heels. Though he would be able to hold his own against the Witch until he could get away, he also knew that she could kill him almost as easily as his new friend.

Crue peered around the front of the car, watching the Witch stumble slowly down the street. Her hands were over her face, claws somewhat glistening in the sunlight. Crue's heart had climbed back up into her throat and firmly planted itself there, pounding loudly and insistently. Her hands trembled ever so slightly as she gripped her gun, hard.

When the Witch's back was to them, Crue felt safe enough to move. They moved quickly, eager to put distance between themselves and the Witch. After a good ten minutes of walking, Spencer seemed to have thought things were much better.

He seemed to almost frolic now, as though in an incredibly good mood. He climbed onto one car and began leaping from car to car, until he realized that the noise attracted the commons to his new friend. He then sprung up onto the buildings and satisfied himself with that. He didn't seem to interested in Crue's slow pace, leaping three or four buildings ahead, only to leap across the street and jump back close to her.

If she hadn't been so focused on the bigger situation at hand, Crue supposed she would have been amused by his antics. Really, she wished she could enjoy herself. But then she really wouldn't be able to enjoy Spencer's company, because that would mean there would have never been an infection. Of course, she would easily trade her new friend for the return of normalcy. Though she did wonder for a little while if she would have met him if this hadn't have happened. She wondered silently what he had been like before the infection. Based on how he was behaving now, she'd like to imagine that he had been quite the happy guy.

They walked for at least another fifteen minutes, dispatching the commons with relative ease. They ran into no Special Infected. Crue felt a little uneasy because of this, but she tried not to dwell on it. After all, it was a rather welcome phenomenon.

Now they reached the edge of the city. Cars lined the highway, abandoned as their owners had been attacked or succumbed to the infection themselves. Crue hesitated by the last building, a tad bit unsure. Leaving the city would be final. She supposed she had liked the fact that, way in the back of her mind, she knew that she could turn around and head back home. Of course, she had become so disoriented lately that she really didn't know which way home was anymore; it had taken her two days to get out of her own city. Though, in her defense, she was rather unfamiliar with the surroundings. She had only been living in her new home for about three weeks before the infection had gripped the city.

Spencer looked at her curiously for a moment, then nudged her. She looked down at him and sighed. She was really second-guessing herself. She had taken two days to make it out of the city and had somehow managed to befriend a Hunter. Making it on her own no longer seemed as likely as it had. However, Spencer seemed to be almost impatient as he butted his head against her leg.

"All right, Spencer. Let's go." He tilted his head at the sound of his name.

So they walked for several hours. The cars never seemed to end, and there were seemingly more commons out here than back in the city. Though Crue supposed this was because most of the cars' previous occupants had fallen victim to the infection while still on the road.

The sky was painted a rather beautiful shade of pink when they came upon the next city. Not very far into the town they found a Wal-Mart. The store seemed to have held up against the infected, who had been unable to figure out how to get inside now that the sliding doors no longer automatically opened.

Crue forced the doors open, allowing Spencer to follow her inside before forcing them back shut. She moved quickly through the store, Spencer still following behind her. His claws made an almost eery, reptilian clicking noise against the tile. She had never been inside such a silent store and it felt so unnatural. Finally, she found the food aisles.

She sat her gun and messenger bag down on one of the shelves. Spencer continued slowly down the aisle, sniffing at the remnants of the food stuffs as Crue dug through her bag. Finally she pulled out her Swiss army knife, which included a spoon, fork, and can opener attachment. She used this to open and eat from a can of ravioli.

She looked around for Spencer but he wasn't in sight. She shrugged, pulling her messenger bag over her shoulder. She held her can of food in one hand and held the gun in the other as she walked down the aisle, looking at what exactly they had there. She finished the can rather quickly, and hesitated before simply setting it down on the shelf. After all, it wasn't like trash was really a big concern right now.

She found Spencer rather easily, and she stopped and stared at him, unsure of her feelings. He had found the meats and was ripping into their packaging. She could smell that they were rotting from here, but this seemed not to matter to him. He glanced over his shoulder, noticing that she now stood watching him. He dropped back down into a crouch and turned around. He looked down at the ground.

Suddenly she wondered if he felt guilty, perhaps even _ashamed?_ That wasn't possible, though, was it? Then again, maybe it wasn't so hard to believe. He had obviously retained enough human consciousness to decide that he didn't want to attack her. It was possible he also still possessed some of his human emotions.

"No, it's okay," she said after a hesitation. "Go on. I suppose you need to eat, too." She then turned and walked away.

Crue walked along the aisles until she found the one devoted to camping. She grabbed a backpack and brought it back over to the food aisle. She carefully packed the largest pocket with food, trying not to put too much weight in it so that she could comfortably carry it. When she was done with that, she carried it over to the health and beauty area. There wasn't much left on the shelves, but she packed the rest of the pockets with what medical supplies she could find.

She tensed, hearing the growl of a Hunter. She raised her gun slowly, unsure of whether it friend or foe. Suddenly a ball bounced past the aisle. She looked at it in confusion, then busted out laughing as she saw Spencer chasing after it. She walked to the end of the aisle to find the remains of the ball hanging from his mouth. She shook her head.

Crue looked around, realizing that it was starting to get pretty dark. She frowned. She returned to the camping center, grabbing two sleeping bags. She brought them to the back, Spencer following behind her as usual. She went into one of the smaller offices, closing the door behind them. She shoved a filing cabinet in front of it for an extra measure. She then ripped away the packaging of the sleeping bags, laying them out on the floor. At first she started to lay one on top of the other, but then she noticed Spencer, who was watching her with curiosity. She then laid one aside for him.

It wasn't until she sat down on the sleeping bag that she realized just how sore and tired she was. She pulled off her shoes and sat them next to the backpack.. She placed her messenger bag at the top of the sleeping bag, planning to use it as a pillow, like always. She watched in amusement as Spencer sniffed at the other sleeping bag, then curled up on top of it. She climbed into her own sleeping bag, seeming to fall asleep the instant her head touched her bag.


	3. Chapter 3

Crue was even more sore when she awoke the next day. She pushed the filing cabinet out from in front of the door with some difficulty. She opened the door and Spencer darted past her, disappearing as he had the day before. She wondered for a moment where it was he went to, then shrugged. The shrugging just caused her muscles to throb in protest. She hadn't been very active before the infection set in and afterward there had been no real option of attending a gym.

She took some time to stretch, biting her lip as the movements irritated her tired body. After she was done, she stood staring at her stuff, wondering if she should just stay where she was. But she pushed the thought aside and gathered her things. She knew that laying around would only make the soreness worse. Besides, it wasn't like she had just overexerted herself on a regular workout. She had to keep moving or risk the very real possibility of death. She left the sleeping bags in the room. They were comfortable, but they would only add to the weight she had to carry and they weren't really essential.

She walked out into the main part of the building and back over to the food. She opened a box of granola bars and began to munch on them. She sat down on the floor at ate them slowly. This time she waited for Spencer, and she wasn't disappointed. He found her still sitting on the floor as she finished her third granola bar.

She shoved the open box onto one of the shelves and stood. She put her backpack on, wincing as she did so. The stretching had helped a good bit, but she still felt an overall ache. She reached down and patted Spencer on the head, who made that odd purr-like noise. It was still so weird that she had befriended a Hunter, of all things.

"Do you think it's weird, too?" she asked him. He looked at her curiously. She gave a small laugh. "I wish you could talk. It gets kind of lonely not talking to anyone." He then nuzzled her leg with his head and, once again, she wondered if he knew more than she expected him to. "Come on, then."

She hitched her messenger bag higher onto her shoulder and then headed back out into the streets. Spencer was rather calm compared to how he had been the day before. She was a tad bit concerned, but ignored it. After all, it was incredibly possible that he could be having a bad day, the same as anyone else.

It was mostly quiet for the first few minutes. Crue took care of the commons mulling about on the street with relative ease, receiving no new injuries. Spencer was right beside her, easily crawling along on all fours. He remained rather subdued, seeming almost bored.

They made it down the street with no problems, coming to a three way intersection. Their only option was to go left or right, or back the way they'd come. Crue looked down each questioningly, unsure.

Spencer looked quickly over his shoulder, then butted her in the back of the leg with his head. She looked down at her.

"Yeah, I know, you don't like waiting," said Crue. "I need to figure out what way to go, though."

Spencer pushed on her leg again with his head, with enough urgency to force her to take a step. She sighed in exasperation.

"Fine, fine! I guess there's no way to tell," said Crue, setting off down the street to the right. Spencer crowded her, nearly tripping her once as he hurried her down the street. "What is your _problem?"_

He gave a low growl in response, continuing to crowd her until they were some ways down the street. Finally, he backed off, drifting a little away from her as they walked.

"Freaking weird zombie," she muttered, eying the creature with slight annoyance. However, whatever had been bothering Spencer seemed to have gone, now. He was calm, occasionally swinging his head to look around and study his surroundings.

It was about ten minutes before there was another problem. Suddenly, Spencer came to a halt in the middle of the street. He rose to his feet, his head turning this way and that. Crue was partially distracted as a pair of commons ran toward them. She shot them, then turned to look at Spencer. She heard a familiar, terrifying screech, and an answering snarl from Spencer. Then she was shoved aside by Spencer, slamming into the hood of a nearby car.

The noise that exploded could be described as hellish, at best. Crue righted herself to find two Hunters scrambling around on the asphalt. One was Spencer, the other a Hunter wearing a dark green hoodie. The two ripped and tore at each other, biting and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach. Snarls, growls, and inhuman screams erupted from both of them.

Crue was momentarily frozen, terrified. She'd seen the commons go at it before, but this was something entirely different. It was completely animalistic, each determined to fight until the other was dead.

The green-hooded Hunter threw himself at Spencer. He pinned Spencer to the ground, raising a clawed hand to rip him apart. Coming out of her stupor, Crue raised her gun. She hesitated momentarily, aiming at his head, then pulled the trigger.

There was a yelp and the Hunter collapsed onto Spencer. Spencer growled angrily and shoved the corpse away. He climbed to his feet and looked at Crue. He pulled his lips back in a smile, revealing his yellowing, blood-stained teeth. In fact, he was a rather gruesome sight, most of his body covered in blood. How much of it was his, how much was the other Hunter's, and how much of it was stains, Crue couldn't really tell.

Crue looked down at herself, checking to make sure that she had really come out of it unscathed. She located a tear on her pants, and a long but shallow wound on her leg. One of the two had clawed her in the initial impact, but she couldn't know who. She looked back up at Spencer, then around at the street.

"Here, let's go inside for a minute," she said, moving toward a nearby building. Her legs and hands were a tad bit shaky, still coming down from the adrenaline rush.

The two climbed through the broken window of a store. Crue sat her backpack and messenger bag down on the counter. She opened the backpack, digging around inside. Spencer remained standing, watching her curiously. She turned to face him, medical supplies in her hands.

"Here, let me look at you," she said, stepping toward him. He took a step back. "Oh, I'm not going to hurt you. I don't even have my gun in my hands."

She walked over to him, then hesitated. The most obvious wound was one on his upper stomach, which was bleeding steadily. She wasn't sure that there was much she could do for it. She grabbed bandaging from the backpack, and began to wrap some around him. He whined.

"You can handle it." He gave a small growl. "Come on, you're a Hunter. And you just kicked another Hunter's ass. I don't think some bandages are going to take you down." He made a quiet, raspy, purr-like noise.

She then used the rest of the roll of bandages to cover a rather nasty looking wound on his arm. She paused, then retrieved some ointment from the bag as well, dabbing it on his other wounds.

"You saved me," she said quietly as she put her things away, having doctored her own wound as well. Spencer merely made a louder purring noise in return.


End file.
